


Technically, I Outrank Him

by BlossomsintheMist



Category: Avengers (Comics), Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Carol spend some time hanging out together because they can.  Just pure domestic friendship fluff between two badass superhero buddies who have a lot in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technically, I Outrank Him

Steve twisted out of Carol’s hold and got in a good elbow to the stomach before she managed to sweep his legs out from under him.  He recovered fast, diving into a somersault and coming up on his feet, and that was the kind of thing that just got her jealous as hell, because how was that fair?  He grinned, the cocky sonuvabitch, and came at her again.  She got her shoulder under his solid weight, and heaved, using his own momentum to toss him over her shoulder.

He landed hard against the mat with an oof, and she grinned down at him, tossing her ponytail behind her.  “Had enough?” she asked, standing over him.

It wasn’t everyone who could spar with Steve Rogers long enough to get him sweaty and breathing hard, cheeks flushed with effort, and Carol didn’t take much credit for that, considering her abilities, but it was still a little bit satisfying.  “Maybe for now,” he allowed.  “Give me a hand?”

“You’ll just use it to pull me down on top of you, Rogers,” she said.  “I’m onto you.”

He chuckled.  “You saw right through me,” he said, and held his hands up.  “All right.  I surrender.  I promise, no tricks.”

Carol made a show of considering, then reached down with one hand to take his and tug him up to his feet.  “We done here?” she asked.

Steve sighed and stretched, then tugged off his sweat-stained t-shirt.  Carol raised her eyebrows and spared a glance for his bare chest.  She was human—mostly—after all, and no matter how often you got a look at it, Steve Rogers’ bare chest was not something to be ignored.  He reached out and tugged at her ponytail.  “I think I’m gonna shower,” he said.  “Meet you upstairs in a few?”

She knocked his hand away with a laugh.  “Hey,” she said.  “Watch the hair.  What d’you think of me cutting it off, anyway?  I’ve been thinking about a haircut.”

“I think you’d look great no matter how you wore your hair, Carol,” Steve said, and that was unfair, the genuine, uncomplicated sincerity in the way he said that, and his smile, no flattery, just pure affection.

“That doesn’t actually help me decide, you know,” she said, and elbowed him lightly in the stomach.

Steve smiled.  “Then sorry,” he said, “I guess I can’t help you there.”

“I’ll go shower, too,” Carol said.  “Meet you upstairs.”

It was a long shower, and Carol found Steve in the kitchen when she got out of it, making a sandwich.  “Sparring makes me hungry,” he said when she walked in.  “You want one?”

“Everything makes you hungry,” Carol said.  “I was going to make popcorn and watch that movie we were talking about earlier.”

“The one with the people in space?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, the one that’s supposed to be a barely fictionalized version of us,” Carol said.  “I thought it sounded like prime mockery material.”

“Usually those are kind of embarrassing,” Steve said, putting the finishing touches on his sandwich and carrying it to the table to sit down and start eating it.  He had ridiculous ideas about proper kitchen eating etiquette.  Carol believed in eating wherever the food came to you; that was what counters were for.

“Embarrassing is just code for hilarious, Rogers,” Carol said.  “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Oh, all right,” Steve said.  “Make the popcorn and I’ll join you.  They always get us wrong, though.”

“Which is why it’s funny,” Carol pointed out.  Besides, she liked thinking about how she might have fictionalized it differently.  “Is there microwaved popcorn or the real stuff?”

“Both,” Steve said.  “Cupboards over the sink.”  Carol opened them and got out the popcorn.  She had been watching kernels pop for a few minutes when Steve said, standing up and taking his empty plate over to the sink, “So, have you decided whether you’re taking the name yet?”

Carol jumped, then glared at him.  He smiled and shrugged sheepishly as he turned to rinse off his plate.

“No,” she admitted after a moment with a sigh, and tugged on the front of her t-shirt until it stopped clinging to her damp skin.  “I don’t know if … I just don’t know.”

“You deserve it,” Steve said.  “Mar-Vell wanted you to have it, to carry on for him.”

“I know …” Carol said, and she did know.  It was just hard to figure out how she felt about it.  Every time she had changed the name she went by, it felt like she’d changed something about herself, said something different.  Warbird was a different person than Ms. Marvel—someone she didn’t want to go back to being.  Captain Marvel was someone else’s name.  Someone else she admired, sure, but she could make it her own without somehow destroying his legacy?  She wasn’t sure.  She wanted to take it, but what if that was just her taking the easy way to becoming a bigger name?

“Well,” Steve said.  “In the end it’s up to you.  I just don’t want to see you pass by an opportunity like this and regret it later.”

“That’s why I’m thinking about it,” Carol said.  “When I decide, you’ll know.  Though don’t forget that even if I do become an honorary Captain, I still outrank you.”  She grinned at him.  “Hey, if I do, I’ll let you auction off the costume for charity.”

“But you’re keeping the sash right?” Steve asked, grinning back.  “I like the sash.”

“What is it with you and primary colors, Rogers?” she asked, filling two bowls up with popcorn.  “Okay, get the butter and salt.  Enough exertion for the day; I’m going to pig out on fatty foods and you’re not going to stop me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve said, and slung his arm around her as they started for the living room.


End file.
